Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,7

She paused, "From what I’ve seen, Harte's Desire is set up perfectly for this sort of entertaining."

"What's in this for you, Miss Reed?" He was curious to know what inspired such a young, but obviously capable woman to speak so convincingly about raising money and restoring old buildings.

The inquiry took her by surprise. As if her motives had to be questioned.

"There's nothing in this for me," she retorted. "I've been a member of the historical society for several years and when they asked me to chair the fundraiser, I agreed to do it. I especially felt an obligation to help because I've been out of town for several months."

She leaned back into the plush cushions unable to enjoy their comfort for the tension between them in the room. “I had some, ah, personal matters that prevented me from helping them interview architects for the schoolhouse project. They had to proceed without me, so I was more than willing to help them in another capacity once I returned."

Libby hoped he didn't notice the break in her voice when she revealed her reasons for undertaking the fundraiser. She still hadn’t recovered from what she'd gone through with her mother. That wound was still painfully raw and bleeding, and even though Libby thought she was successfully hiding her sorrow, it reappeared when she was least able to deal with it.

Like now.

Chris saw a flicker of anguish in her eyes that disappeared as quickly as it came. Instantly, he felt regret for thinking she had anything to gain from all this. He knew that historical societies were always struggling for money, that what little they made on admission fees and bake sales was never enough to patch a leaky roof or replace an ancient heating system, let alone pay someone to raise money for them. This beautiful young woman before him, so full of enthusiasm and determination, was obviously going through some emotional turmoil, he thought. Not stopping to analyze why, he felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for her.

His curiosity aroused, he probed further.

"How could you have helped them choose an architect? Is that your profession?"

Heaven help her, she thought, how can she get around this one without having him realize who she is?

"No," she replied slowly, buying time to carefully craft a response, "I used to work for an architectural firm that specialized in restoration. I have some training in that field and the historical society thought I could help them make a decision about the company most qualified for the job."

She didn't dare reveal any more. And so what if she had a lot of training in historic preservation, that working with historic buildings was her career; it was only a little white lie, wasn't it? Hopefully this would be enough to satisfy him and he would let it drop.

Christopher Darnell carefully weighed his options as he reviewed her request. He could say no and send her packing out the door. God knows he'd done that often enough in the past. He'd never been lacking for attention from the opposite sex since Cynthia.

In fact, he'd had a string of girlfriends, although the term girlfriend was more their choosing than his. Rarely did they last beyond two or three dates when he discovered them to be shallow, self-centered, unintelligent, and usually after one thing--his money. He quickly became bored with their requests for expensive gifts, front row center theater seats, and more of his time than he cared to give.

But Miss Reed wasn't asking for anything for herself. And he sensed that for some reason, she didn't like him, or his money, at all. Just as well, he decided, thinking he had no desire to get romantically involved right now. There was too much to be done here at Harte's Desire and the distraction would be an unwelcome diversion.

So, he considered her request purely from a business point of view and, in that light, it made sense to let her have the fundraiser here. Actually, it would get the place cleaned up before the auction in October and it wouldn't cost him a dime. It might even buy him some desperately-needed, favorable publicity, especially in connection with a historic building. He snorted, thinking of all the times he'd been made out to be the bad guy demolishing some cherished architectural treasure. He really wasn't against them restoring the schoolhouse, just thankful it wasn't standing in the way of something he wanted to develop. Like the expansive riverfront acreage surrounding Harte's Desire.

Pondering the