Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,5

an impressive figure seated at the head of the table, gazing down its polished length to the river beyond. In a business where the appearance of power won or lost deals, it was decidedly in his favor to look imposing.

His thoughts returned to the attractive figure in front of him. Idly, he speculated why she was here. He cleared his throat to catch her attention, determined to learn more about this unexpected, but very intriguing visitor.

Chapter Three

Caught by surprise at the polite cough behind her, Libby whirled around. She was immediately held captive by the raw power emanating from the tall figure standing in the doorway. Although he lounged casually in the opening, his stance was one of conqueror looming over conquered. Well over six feet tall, with thick, dark hair expertly groomed, he was ruggedly handsome and his well-muscled frame pulled at the seams of his perfectly tailored white dress shirt. She imagined that his navy blue pinstriped pants, which emphasized his trim waist and flat stomach, concealed powerfully built legs as well. The attraction she felt for him was immediate and startling.

With a physique like that he must be the construction manager here she quickly decided. Realizing that she was rudely staring at him, she found her voice.

"You caught me snooping," Libby explained apologetically, with more lightness than she was feeling. "I'm Elizabeth Reed and I have an appointment with Mr. Darnell today." She glanced at her watch and added, "In thirty minutes, actually. I know I'm early, but I've wanted to see the inside of this building since I was a child."

She was anything but a child now, Christopher Darnell thought silently as he admired the womanly curves emphasized to perfection by her casual jeans and T-shirt. Her pretty oval face held two enormous brown eyes that looked at him with a fascinating combination of innocence and sophistication. She was petite, but not overly so, and he decided the surreptitious bun on top of her head was worn more for convenience than appearance.

"Ah, Miss Reed," he said with dawning recognition. "My secretary mentioned our appointment this morning." She was certainly not what he expected, and before he could stop himself, he checked to see if she wore a wedding ring. Observing none, he found himself actually looking forward to their meeting.

My secretary, Libby thought incredulously. This is Christopher Darnell? No, it couldn't be. He's only in his mid-thirties, she guessed, and he projected an aura of dominance and command she would have expected in a man twice his age. Maybe she misunderstood him. He couldn’t possibly be Christopher Darnell.

And if he was Christopher Darnell that made her the enemy. It was unthinkable, no unimaginable, for her to find him so disturbingly attractive.

"You're Christopher Darnell?" she asked hesitantly.

"I am," he said, walking confidently across the room to greet her. His presence filled the entire parlor she noticed, and he had the most unusual eyes, not blue, not green, but somewhere in between, flecked with brown and gold.

She nervously fingered her bun, realizing it was too late to loosen it. She’d have to continue as she was, momentarily caught off-guard. "W-well, if you're free now, I only need a few minutes of your time, Mr. Darnell," she replied, summoning her best professional voice.

He gestured toward one of the room's many couches. "Why don't we meet right in here, Miss Reed?"

He touched Libby lightly on the elbow, guiding her to a plump sofa covered with a pleasing rose-patterned damask. He took a chair opposite the sofa and gestured for her to begin.

Determined to get very quickly to the point of their meeting, Libby plunged right in. "I'm here on behalf of the Borden's Landing Historical Society. As you know, we’re restoring the Little Red Schoolhouse in town..."

"I'm well aware of that," Darnell crisply interrupted. "I did, after all, contribute $50,000 towards its renovation in return for the Society’s promise not to fight my plans to demolish Harte's Desire. Surely you're not here to tell me that your group has changed its mind?"

Libby flinched slightly at his mention of Harte's Desire and its impending demise.

"No, Mr. Darnell. We're still thrilled with your generous donation," she responded, almost choking on the word "generous.” The man stood to make millions from the office park and conference center he was building on this site, and yet a paltry $50,000 was all it took to win the historical society’s blessing. She bit back the urge to accuse him of bribery.

If only she had been here