Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,6

when he tried to sell his scheme to them. Even city council was supporting his plan; the town desperately needed the jobs and new taxes Darnell's ambitious project would bring.

Libby continued, gaining confidence as she faced him. "I'm here because the cost estimates to restore the schoolhouse came in a few days ago, and it's going to take considerably more money than we originally thought. Based on the documents I've reviewed, we need to raise an extra $20,000."

"And I suppose you want Darnell Development," he paused to add with emphasis, "me, to fund this shortage?" His words were clipped and terse, slightly tinged with annoyance.

Chris watched her from behind half-hooded eyes, appraising her. He was used to stammered, hesitantly-worded requests from people who almost cowered at the sight of him, yet here she was meeting him head on, asking him for $20,000 without batting an eye. As an equal, one-on-one, almost as if they were discussing the weather instead of money. Silently, he admired her pluck.

"We're not asking for a monetary contribution, Mr. Darnell," she stated matter-of-factly, noting his surprise at her words. "We'd like to use Harte's Desire for a fundraiser before you demolish it.”

He quirked an eyebrow. "A fundraiser?"

"Yes," she continued, more boldly now, "We’d like to hold a dinner dance here to raise a good portion of the shortfall. The mansion is the perfect place for it. The ballroom and some of the first floor rooms, once cleared of their furniture, are large enough for the two to three hundred people we expect would attend."

He arched the other eyebrow. "Two to three hundred? You’ve that many supporters?" His voice was laden with undisguised disbelief and a hint of derision.

"Easily. Finding value in old buildings may not be your cup of tea, Mr. Darnell, but there's plenty of people in this town who believe very strongly in preserving some of Borden's Landing's history," she said, conviction giving her courage. "Many will attend, not only to finance the schoolhouse project, but also because they know it might be their first, or should I say 'only,' chance to get inside Harte's Desire before it comes down."

"You are aware then, Miss Reed, of my reputation?" He raised the question tauntingly.

"You mean your reputation with historic buildings?" she countered. "I am aware of your penchant for wanting to tear them down."

Chris made no response to her statement as there was no need to acknowledge what was already a known fact. Rather, he was intrigued with the glint of determination in her eyes as she passionately defended her position while challenging his. It was obvious she felt very strongly about this town and cared deeply about Harte's Desire. She was beautiful, he observed, as she argued her cause, and he found himself intrigued with the little blonde spitfire who dared to stand up to him. A part of him, long hidden, wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she could do anything she wished with the house.

Then he stopped himself. He had no need for any woman in his life right now, feisty or otherwise. Especially one so fervent about historic buildings. And the businessman part of him wanted to learn more about the plans and practicality of granting her request before making a decision.

"You said you'd clear out the furnishings. Where to?" he coolly inquired, reigning in the unwanted, but undeniable attraction he felt for her.

"The carriage house has plenty of empty space to hold most of the items. Of course, we'd put everything back the way we found it. I understand you're planning to auction off the contents, so we'd be very careful handling everything."

"And when did you want to have this 'little' shindig?"

His dismissive description of the fundraiser was not lost on her, but she ignored it. "We thought the first Saturday night in August would be perfect. With your permission, we'd clean up the brick patio that overlooks the rose garden so if it's not raining we could use it as well as the open porches in addition to the ballroom. I’d love to think we’ll need room for an overflow crowd."

Libby suddenly had a vision of dancing gaily, twirling around under the stars amid the heavenly scent of roses carried aloft by gentle breezes from the river beyond. Dismissing the image as nothing more than wishful thinking, she continued, "You wouldn't have to do a thing, Mr. Darnell. We'll have it catered, we’ll bring in our own florist, and we'll clean up before and after."