gave a quick rub to his hair. Only then did she realize it was damp. Which explained why he’d been shirtless. Not that she’d been complaining.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said into the phone just before ending the call. He shot an exasperated look at her. “That was my housekeeper warning me you were here.”
He stepped aside to let her in. At least he had the good grace to look chagrined. As if he half expected her to give him a hard time for having his housekeeper give her the rigmarole.
But she figured she had enough to give him hell about without bringing that to the table. So instead she stayed quiet for a moment, taking stock of her surroundings.
From the outside, the carriage house was designed in the same style as the original house. Inside, however, they were completely different. The main house had been bright and well lit with a decor so crisp it bordered on institutional. As far as she could tell, the apartment consisted of a small living area and a tiny kitchenette. A hallway led to what she assumed was a bedroom and bath. A take-out box sat open on the kitchen counter, a bottle of Gran Patron Platinum and a tumbler next to it.
The furniture in the apartment was worn and a little shabby. The woods all exotic dark woods, the upholstery chocolate-brown and warm red batiks. Shelves lined the back walls, their surfaces stacked with books and knickknacks. Not the kind of things that a decorator would put out, but rather the sort that would be collected and displayed by someone who traveled a lot and collected memorabilia. Replicas of Greek Cycladic art sat side by side with bobble heads of famous musicians and composers.
There was little doubt. He may not stay in the house anymore, but he most definitely lived here.
As Ward shut the door behind her, she turned her attention back to him just in time to see him sliding his phone into his pocket. He was dressed in well-worn jeans and a gray V-neck sweater. The kind a woman automatically wanted to stroke and cuddle against.
He smiled faintly and, for the first time since she’d met him, looked a little self-conscious. “If he asks,” Ward said, “can you tell Chase I moved back into the house?”
His request was so unexpected, Ana could do little more than shrug. “I…sure, I guess. Is he going to ask?”
“He might. He gave me hell a year ago when he found out I’d moved out.”
What was she supposed to say to that? She’d never lost a spouse. So she could only imagine how he felt. How torn he must be, unable to move back into the house he’d shared with his wife, unwilling to sell it. Still, it wasn’t her business or her place.
“You should call me then.” He quirked an eyebrow in question, so she explained. “I’m a horrible liar. If you call me now, then I can at least tell him that and pretend I was never here.”
Ward nearly laughed at Ana’s statement. Her words were so blandly practical, he couldn’t help but be amused. And yet, the sentiment seemed perfectly in-line with everything he knew about her. Once again, her stunning combination of exotic lush beauty and straitlaced practical clothing was a dichotomy he found all too appealing.
She wore a black-and-white houndstooth jacket cinched tight around her waist. She had an oversize leather tote slung over her shoulder. Once the door was closed behind her, she loosened the belt of her jacket to reveal slim black pants and a white business shirt that looked slightly rumpled after a day’s wear. He found himself wanting to unbutton it to see what she had on beneath it.
He wanted to close the distance between them and tug loose her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders. He wanted to run his hands through it and bury his nose in it. He ached to find out if her skin still held that intriguing combination of vanilla and cinnamon. If she still smelled like snickerdoodles.
And more than any of that, he wanted to kiss her. To feel her lips, hot and wet beneath his. To kiss her until her irritation turned to surprise and then keep on kissing her until that turned to desire. Until she wanted him with the same deep pounding need that he wanted her.
But of course, the one thing he didn’t want to do was alienate her. Which kissing her would certainly