Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,39

hopefully for her, too.

Libby moaned softly and leaned against him when he deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced against each other and when she shuddered, he could barely contain his response. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, totally lost in the rapture enclosing them. In a heartbeat he knew the feelings passing between them were unexpected and extraordinary, transcending whatever differences they might have. He wanted her like he wanted no other. Their past and his desire for revenge suddenly meant nothing.

Libby pulled back sharply, pushing Chris away as she did so.

Her mouth opened but no words of explanation came out. Her eyes flashed alternately with passion and regret.

“I can’t do this, Chris,” she finally managed to choke out. “I am not the woman you think I am.”

She spun on her heels and sprinted up the path leading back to the mansion.

Chris hesitated only for a moment before running after her. When he finally caught up, he spun her around, his eyes blazing. “You can’t do what, Elizabeth?” he demanded. How he wished she would be honest with him about her identity so they could move past this dam between them.

“You can’t do what?” he repeated softly this time, locking eyes with her.

Again she tried to speak, but found words lacking. Taking a deep breath, she faced him squarely, as an equal. “I care about you, Chris. Too much. More than is healthy for both us. Don’t you see? This, whatever this is between us, can never succeed. Opposites might attract, but anything we might share would be overshadowed by my love for Harte’s Desire and your hatred for it.”

Stunned, Chris did not know how to respond because she was clearly, absolutely right. Even if she revealed she was Libby Chatham, it would not change the values each held dear.

Stepping back from him, she said nothing more. And when she turned to leave, he let her go this time, knowing that their separate wishes for Harte’s Desire formed a solid wedge between them not to be breached today, if ever.

Chapter Fifteen

With the precision of a surgeon, Libby carefully scraped through the layers of paint coating the dining room trim. She'd chosen an inconspicuous spot near the sideboard and gently placed the chips from each sample into their own separate container. Tomorrow, she would send them to a laboratory for analysis. She would learn not only the precise composition of each paint chip, but what the color had been when applied. Over time, after exposure to dust, sunlight, and cleaning solvents, paint colors could change, sometimes drastically, from their original hue. But the paint analysis magically turned the clock back. Libby was anxious to see what palette Amanda Harte had chosen when she first decorated the mansion.

Not that it mattered, Libby thought dismally. Rather than be restored to its original beauty, Harte's Desire would be a pile of broken lath and plaster in a few months, anyway. But the state office requested a paint analysis for the major rooms, so today Libby was painstakingly collecting the necessary samples.

She'd waited until Chris left his office for a lunch meeting this afternoon so she could do the scrapings away from his watchful eyes. There was no point in crossing paths with him. Their kiss had been electrifying, summoning emotions long hidden. But it could never be repeated.

Unfortunately, Libby's assignment had kept her busy at Harte's Desire. After taking photographs of the mansion, inside and out, she'd had to complete written descriptions of each room. The task hadn't been easy to undertake with Chris there, but she managed to work around his schedule without running into him. Collecting paint samples was her final task and this was the last sample Libby needed before she could retreat to the tranquil safety of her office and write the report. She knew it would take at least two weeks to complete before she could hand it, and her bill, to Chris and get out of this unbearable situation for once and for all.

Until the fundraiser, she thought, which was less than ten weeks away.

With Edwina's help, Libby had managed to coordinate most of the event's preparations while doing her work at Harte's Desire. She'd met with the caterer, who gasped not only at the immense size of the kitchen, but at its ancient appliances. Libby assured her that they did, indeed, work--she and Edwina spent a morning testing them--and scolded the caterer for not being more thankful to have three ovens and an