Page 5 of The Wanderer

When she caught him staring at her oddly again, she quickly cleared her throat. "How much?"

"I'll outline all the proposed changes and costing in a formal quote I'll email to you later, but from what I can see, including materials and labour, you're looking at a ballpark figure of around eighty grand."

Hope tried to hide her surprise and failed. She wasn't a complete novice and had obtained quotes from two other companies, both half of Logan's. But a fellow music teacher who played violin in a major touring orchestra had recommended him to her. Apparently Logan's company had constructed their rehearsal spaces to a standard higher than that of anything her friend had practised in around the world and Hope had known then she had to have him. To renovate, that is. She needed the clarification because her howling libido hadn't quit since she first laid eyes on him.

"Done."

His eyebrows shot up and his lips thinned, like he was clamping them together with all his might to prevent from blurting that she was crazy for accepting his first offer.

"I settle for nothing less than the best and I know what I want." She stepped into his personal space, almost toe to toe, done with his toying with her. Time to regain the upper hand. "And I want you."

Chapter Three

Logan knew Hope was referring to him doing her precious bloody renovations when she said "I want you" but it took a second or two for his eager cock to catch up with his logic.

He'd been rock-hard since he set foot in this room and she'd become animated, like one of those wind-up ballerinas in his mum's old jewellery box that whirled when wound up.

He'd tried to get a rise out of her several times, to tease her into lightening up, to see what was beneath that frosty exterior.

He hadn't expected her to turn the tables on him.

She stood too close, some exotic flowery fragrance reminiscent of newly budded roses teasing him to bury his nose in her neck and inhale. Close enough he could feel the heat radiating off her, like she'd been standing next to a radiator too long. Her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and tiny jade flecks glowed in her eyes.

For a second he almost lost it. He imagined backing her up against the nearest wall, flipping up that short kaftan, tearing off her panties, and burying himself deep. Or having her kneel before him, that prim and proper mouth wrapped around him, sucking him off…

"I accept your offer. When can you start?"

Logan blinked, his X-rated fantasy instantly obliterated by her coolly polite question.

Of course he had to accept the job now, even after throwing out that ludicrously inflated price. He'd done it to see her baulk and had looked forward to bargaining with her. She had a hidden fire beneath the frost and it had come out several times already when she'd returned his quips. He sure as hell hadn't expected her to agree to it so fast.

But he couldn't recant now, not without appearing unprofessional, so he nodded. "I'll do the preliminaries and get my team set. We can start Monday if that suits?"

She grimaced. "Monday is my busiest teaching day and I don't want my students disrupted. Can you start Tuesday?"

Usually he called the shots on where and when his crew worked but residual guilt over the exorbitant quote for a fairly routine job made Logan nod. "Sure, but you'll need to reschedule the following Monday because a job of this magnitude may require a few weeks to complete. Plus we need to factor in unforeseen hold-ups like bad weather."

"Understood." She twisted a strand of hair that had come loose from her elaborate topknot, gnawing on her lip absentmindedly. "I knew there'd be some disruption but maybe I should close and change all my appointments for the next two weeks.”

He nodded. "It would make life easier on us. We take occupational health and safety very seriously and having people around during renovations is a hazard we'd rather avoid."

"Okay."

He eyed her suspiciously, wondering why she sounded so meek, like the ice princess had melted into a submissive snowman.

"I really need this to work," she murmured, as she headed back towards the room with the instruments, winding that strand of hair tighter around her finger. "It has to."

Intrigued by her glimpse of vulnerability, he followed, stopping only to turn out the lights and close the double doors. He found her slumped on the piano stool, eyeing him with open speculation.

"I have it on good authority you're the best at what you do."

While he didn't need the validation these days, it was always nice to get praise. "My company takes on a limited number of boutique jobs, meaning we focus on one at a time per city, ensuring quality and attention to detail." He shrugged. "When you're the best, word gets around."

"So I heard." She pinned him with an astute stare. "And you charge accordingly, so it seems."

"That's right. Supply and demand."

Though in this case, he was quadrupling his profit margins because he’d been a smart-ass trying to get a rise out of her and it didn’t sit well. Too late to back down now.

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