Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,15

on the purpose of their meeting. Hell and damnation, he thought. This woman was entirely too desirable.

They agreed on her fee and reimbursable expenses before he rose from his chair, signaling an end to their meeting.

"There's something I wish to make perfectly clear, Elizabeth." He stared at her, his hypnotic blue-green eyes flashing with unconcealed warning.

"Yes?" Libby swallowed hard and met his gaze head-on.

"There are two things I demand from the people I employ, no matter how briefly." He paused, watching her closely.

"Punctuality and honesty. I'll expect you here at nine a.m. sharp Monday, and further, that you'll have the report ready by the date we agreed upon. As to the honesty, I will take you at your word that you've got the ability to do this job. I haven't got the time to check references or see samples of your work. I rarely forgive--or forget--any deception played out at my expense. Understood?"

Libby gulped at his words, but refused to succumb to the desperation his words incited.

"You'll get exactly what you're paying for, Mr. Darnell. On time, as promised."

"Good." He released her arm and gestured toward the door. "Till Monday, then."

She took three steps and turned back to face him, knowing she had to come clean with at least one thing. “If it’s honesty you want, then I do have a confession to make, Mr. Darnell.” Her voice was clear with new-found strength. “I’m one of the few in town who doesn’t approve of your plan to raze this building.”

He looked up sharply at her words and she could see he wasn’t used to being challenged, one-on-one.

“However, my opinion will not affect the work I do for you,” Libby continued, knowing there was no turning back now, “regardless of what I might think of you professionally.”

Although a muscle in Chris’ jaw twitched at her words, his voice remained steady. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t need your consent, Elizabeth, because this building is surely coming down.”

With that, she exited the room, knowing there was no rebuttal to the truth in his words.

Chapter Six

Libby set the trowel down and glanced over at the driveway as Connie's green SUV appeared in front of a cloud of dust as she slammed on the brakes and got out.

"Hi, Lib!" Connie called, walking towards the garden where Libby was working. "I'm out running some errands and thought I'd stop by. I have to know. How'd your meeting with Christopher Darnell go?"

"Couldn't wait until Monday, could you?" Libby admonished with a laugh. She stood up and brushed a clump of black soil from her knees.

"Nope. I want the Prince Charming report!"

"Well, I'm still alive."

"That bad, huh?" Connie chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "He knows?"

"Believe it or not, he doesn't, Connie!" Libby smiled triumphantly.

"So why the meeting yesterday?"

"He hired me to do a study on Harte's Desire. Something Rich Stone wants before Prince Charming can demolish it."

"Libby, that's great! That report should be a piece of cake for you!"

"Yeah, if only it weren't on Harte's Desire." Libby frowned and looked at Connie sadly.

"I know. But you need the work, don't you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Libby said. "Which reminds me, I need you to draw up a consulting agreement for the project on Monday."

"Let me guess," Connie said, "You spent last night working again, didn't you?"

"Yep!" Libby replied. "Now, let me guess. I'm about to receive another 'get a social life' lecture from my administrative assistant, right?"

Connie laughed at her boss's accurate impersonation. "Absolutely! And that's another reason I stopped by today. Got any plans tonight?"

"Ah...no." Libby had a sinking feeling she was about to, though.

"Gee, I was kind of hoping Prince Charming asked you out." Connie arched her eyebrows optimistically.

"Are you crazy? I wouldn't go, even if he did. What if we started to really like each other or something?"

"Yeah, that would be stupid," Connie agreed, then continued. "Listen, a bunch of us are going to the Chesterfield Inn tonight. Nothing formal or fancy. Just dinner and then we thought we might go to that new dance club in Mercertown. Wanna come?"

"I really don't think..." Libby began.

"Please, don't tell me about all the reasons why not. Just come, OK?"

"But what if I feel like being alone tonight, Connie?"

"I'm tired of that excuse. You use it all the time."

"I do, don't I?" Libby sighed, realizing Connie was going to persist until she agreed to join Connie's amiable group of friends.

"Come on, Lib. It's Saturday night!"

"Well..."

"And you love the Chesterfield Inn," Connie insisted.

Libby hesitated. The quaint, eighteenth-century tavern a few