Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,27

the illusion to crack.

Shortly before midnight, she finally called it a night and packed in her roller. The building groaned as she tapped the lid back on the can of paint.

She could no longer ignore the creaking sounds the old building made or the sensation of being inside a giant goldfish bowl. Blinds on those large, open windows would be a nice touch. She made a mental note to approach Bob for a personal donation. If he could toss away three hundred municipal dollars a night on a hotel room for his nephew, then he could find some spare change of his own for window treatments for a youth project that he’d initiated.

The building groaned again, and Eve stiffened, along with the fine hairs on the backs of her arms. The large windows reflected the café’s interior, but through the reflection a slight movement caught her eye. Someone was lurking in the shadows across the street, watching her.

Chunks of construction debris crunched beneath her boot heels as she dashed to flip off the lights, plunging the room into a thin darkness illuminated only by the faint glow from the streetlights outside. She was going to talk to Bob about the lack of decent lighting in this ratty neighborhood when she approached him about the blinds. No wonder it had such a lousy reputation.

She ducked behind a large stack of unused Gyprock sheets, telling herself not to panic. Maybe she’d imagined the movement, although her instincts screamed that she hadn’t.

With construction dust tickling her nose, she felt around until she found the nail gun she’d left on the floor. There was no way she was going to wait for a cab now. The driver would be in no hurry to come to this neighborhood at this time of night.

Eve grew angry then, but mostly at herself. She wasn’t big, she wasn’t all that strong, but she wasn’t defenseless, either. She wasn’t going to cower in the darkness and wait for something to happen.

She clutched the nail gun to her chest and glanced at the luminous dial on her watch. Then she found her briefcase and Blackberry, hesitated for a moment, and reluctantly punched in some numbers.

…

Matt propped his feet on the coffee table and prepared to take a bite of his salami sandwich, checking his watch for what must have been the fiftieth time and wondering where Eve might be so late at night.

Sharing a house with her wasn’t turning out quite the way he’d anticipated. He’d given her three days to get used to him, and still, Eve didn’t observe any of the common courtesies normally extended when two people cohabited. She didn’t tell him where she was going. She didn’t call when she was going to be late. And he found her habit of drying her delicates on the curtain rod in the shower to be more than a little disconcerting. He couldn’t get fantasies involving lacy panties out of his head.

What bothered him the most, however, was that she’d never mentioned the break-in, the trashed bedroom, or the crumpled-up divorce decree.

And the wary way she watched him made him very careful of the way he treated her. Whatever had gone wrong in her marriage, Eve had been burned, and despite Matt’s best efforts, she didn’t want to trust him.

He balanced the sandwich and plate on his stomach and chewed thoughtfully.

She didn’t have to trust him, but it was about time he insisted she show him a little consideration. They didn’t need to advertise he was living with her, but he should have worked it into the house rules that he had no intention of being treated like a dirty secret.

His uncle’s reaction to him moving out of the hotel hadn’t been much more encouraging than Eve’s. When Matt had explained to him it was a matter of convenience, that Eve had all the equipment he needed in her home office, Uncle Bob had been indifferent.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Mattie,” he’d said. “Never in a million years would I think there’d be any other reason for you to be rooming with Eve.”

Matt had no idea what that comment was supposed to mean.

He’d given up trying to work. He had the design well in hand, although he wasn’t about to let frugal little Eve get a look at it yet. He didn’t want her complaining about the budget before his uncle had the funding in place. Besides, Matt had some ideas of his own as to